Last But One


Goran growled in frustration. The beast had charged him, almost throwing itself on his sword in a desperate attempt to retreat up the mountain. Now, instead of a mighty tale around the fire of how he captured the last surviving snow troll, he would see no more than a few silver coins for the pelt, maybe a jug of beer before Halder tracked him down and forced him to join the sideshow in its place.

With winter coming, he had risked everything in the open forests of the uplands to capture the legendary snow troll and wipe off his debts. No one had seen one alive for over a decade, and he had scoffed at the rumours of a carcass found after the last spring thaw. He growled again, furious that he had wasted his hunting skills and ogrish strength on such a stupid little creature, nothing like the myths of a huge beast with dripping fangs. Never trust a human story-teller!

He sensed a blizzard building. If he did not skin the beast and descend well into the forest before dark, his own life would be in danger. The wind whistled down the mountains and Goran shivered. It sounded almost like a large animal in pain…